A Quiet Observation
by SfumatoSoup
Summary: Third Part in Series 'A Study in Camouflage'. Pre-slash Mycroft/Sherlock. Holmescest.


A Quiet Observation

Third Part in Series 'A Study in Camouflage' (Mycroft/Sherlock)

Author: Sfumatosoup

Fandom: BBC Sherlock

Genre: Character study/pre-slash Holmescest

Rating: G

Disclaimer: BBC Sherlock and all characters other than my own, are owned by Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss, BBC and their affiliates- based upon the original stories of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Other characters originally proposed/owned by Baring-Gould. No intention to profit.

Summary: A glimpse into Sherlock's youth. Pre-slash Holmescest.

A/N: Mummy Holmes POV

Check my profile for the first two parts of the series.

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….

The Holmes family were reticent to displays. Which was why it was alarming when Sherlock had grasped her hand, as father was lowered into the earth. She dared a sideways glance, to find her youngest son looking straight forward with moderate apathy.

Sherrinford and Mycroft were watching, as usual with curiosity. Violet noted a subtle change in Mycroft's stoic demeanor pass quickly over his face, as he regarded his youngest brother.

When Siger had passed, her two eldest, had stood defensively on either side, while Sherlock had raced around during the service, with his Nanny exhaustively chasing behind.

Claude wept openly behind the two, inconsolably into Violet's sister's arms.

She was ever so relieved that her son's maintained decorum and resembled her, for Violet was not one for emotional affectivity, nor her father. Thus, her children had ultimately replicated this characteristic.

It was not to say that they weren't occasionally physically demonstrative, it was just that, reason climaxed emotion.

Of course, Sherlock had assimilated the distinct trait of emotional detachment, yet his underlying disposition was such that, it made Violet's heart twinge beneath her breast. She maintained equal treatment for all of her sons, yet Sherlock was the reason the Valium was so utterly necessary.

Siger, Violet's late husband, had been her diametric opposite; passionate, intense, and full of joie de vivre. She'd been magnetically drawn to him as a perfect counter.

All of her son's were possessed with a degree of their father, yet Sherlock had ultimately been the manifestation of this man. For example: Sherrinford was the warmest of the three, possessing of a great capacity for empathy. Mycroft though often uncommunicative and imperturbable, was uniquely nurturing and functionally charismatic. He made for a fantastic intermediary, and cleverly utilized his unique talent for dissembling and manipulation to do so.

Yet, of all of her sons, Mycroft was the most similar, and therefore, to the two of them, Sherlock was distractively appealing to both their hearts.

Sherlock, had taken to the violin with the mastery of Siger, portraying his flair for the artistic. This, alone would have been significant of his peculiar likeness.

The icing on the cake was that he was also positively bursting with all consuming-thirst for his surroundings. He wanted to know everything about everything. His passion was intense yet capped by his sheer intellectual possession. Like his mother, he had a tendency toward unsympathetic rationality, which inevitably reigned this in.

It did not go unnoticed all these years that Mycroft had exhaustively tried to resist falling prey to her youngest son's charms.

Sherlock positively bated Mycroft.

She also observed the silent communication between the two during the Wake.

Oh yes, her son's had certainly bequeathed her unique ability to observe the subtle details. Violet had carefully orchestrated the social gathering in such a way, that she could participate and _watch_ all at the same time. Easily conversing with her extended family, all the while, keeping a close eye on her two youngest sons as they danced around each other. The tension was palpable.

Intuitively, she sensed the context of said tension. It was complex and multiply-tiered, but underlying, was something she failed to decipher. There was something else. Something _more._

She would, undoubtedly let destiny take its course, and deter her invasive curiosity. Her sons were grown, and therefore, would make their own decisions.

It was a liberal point of view, but what choice did she have? Meddling would be destructive to this sensitive situation, and though Violet loathed ambiguity, she loathed dramatic familial conflicts more.

With a sigh of capitulation, she watched as Sherlock trailed Mycroft out of the hall.

…

attempt to gratify his bourgeoning desires.

Mummy was tireless in her orchestration of the funeral, as usual, ever so elegant, yet austere as she stood by Sherlock

_A/N: We always get this portrayal of Mummy Holmes to be the artistic one since she is related to the Vernets- which were always associated with Sherlock's artistic bent. Siger Holmes is typically the cold strict influence. So I decided to flip things around for the fun of it. _

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